Heart Song
by wickedlfairy17
Summary: Oc Insert, Harley knew her destiny, knew the path she had been meant to walk, but she hadn't clawed her way back to life to be a puppet to it. No, but that wasn't to say that she was opposed to being persuaded otherwise. How different would the story be with someone who know the outcomes? One thing was for sure life was funny when you were in on the joke...hahahahahahahahhahahaha
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.: Hello! This story is new…omg I'm not dead. Lol life has been a crazy ride since I last uploaded a story. I moved again, bought a house, got pregnant, had to deal with post partum depression and now my baby is two! I saw the suicide squad movie and for the first time in years I found myself motivated to write again. Now I don't want to discourage anyone by posting this story, I actually have the next chapters for my other stories half done…from blended blood to fire born…does this mean I will be posting them soon? Maybe, honestly I have to go back through my notes, remind myself where I was going and edit some things. But I hope to update my other works soon. I'm getting married in two months so you'll probably see updates after that. I might update this story faster and more often. Because it's fresh and it's new and it motivates me. Lol don't give up on me though. I will continue my other stories! Thanks for reading and thanks to everyone who continued to review my stories…you guys made me come back to writing. So I will definitely reward your faith in me!**

 **Chapter 1~Mad Hatter**

" **My friends don't walk, they run** **  
** **Skinny dip in rabbit holes for fun** **  
** **Popping, popping balloons with guns, getting high off helium** " ~Melanie Martinez

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When you're dead trying to keep yourself together is like trying to hold water with your bare hands. The important things go first, the harder you try to keep your memories and your essence the more it hurts. It feels a bit like you're being cut to ribbons; it hurts so much trying to keep anything that part of you wants to just to let it all go but the thought of being put through metaphysical blender and losing everything scares you more. So you hold on to your pieces of self because even if it's painful the thought of being utterly destroyed is more terrifying. Like shattering a mirror and holding the pieces in your bloody hand, trying to stay together without being cut apart is impossible.

Fractured.

One becomes many and then all of you tries to hold onto each other.

Panic.

You look for a way to escape the inescapable.

Death was an absolute. Everything that lives dies, an unavoidable truth, and then a crazy idea streams through the shattered pieces of what once was a person…the only thing that defeats death is life (and vise versa). Joined by the thinnest of threads, memories fading, you see an out and go for it. The pain doesn't go away; the shattered parts can't be fitted back together because parts of you are gone forever. You are no longer one, but many, joined together into something like a person…yet not. The pieces are you, they are your thoughts, your memories, and they should be joined, smooth and not disjointed. You know this, you know that there is something fundamentally wrong with you, but you don't care. All of you agrees, better to be this shattered disjointed thing than to not be a thing at all.

You can't remember the vital essence of you anymore, you can't remember your name, and parts of your life are gone from you as if it never existed leaving only a gaping wound in its wake…only the devastating pain of love lost.

Heartbreak.

There are things you do remember, a smell of a lover…was he a husband…a first love…his memory is gone but it left with such a large piece of you…he must have meant a whole lot. You remember English, reading, writing, speaking, you remember school lessons, and the ache of your feet after working all day. None of it is in order, none of it seems as important as the parts of you that are gone forever. But it is something. At least there is something.

Boom…dun-boom…boom…dun-boom.

You listen to the heartbeats of your new mother as it crashes over you like the waves upon the shore and take comfort in it.

Life.

You're alive, and you made it out of death alive…

Ha ha ha ha ha …ha….

You made it back to **life**.

All the parts of you agree, even if it's painful, even if you are this broken thing…you are alive and nothing and no one can take this victory from you.

You conquered death.

You faced it, and the pain it gave you head on.

You are a warrior.

You are strong, bleeding thing, broken, but together.

You will never forget this lesson.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~x~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

" **We paint white roses red,** **  
** **Each shade from a different person's head** **  
** **This dream, dream is a killer** **  
** **Getting drunk with the blue caterpillar"**

 **~Melanie Martinez**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~x~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Nick and Sharon Quinzel were not quite sure what to make of their new baby Harleen. She was just so different from their first son Barry that they weren't sure what to make of it and were only too glad to ignore the…oddity. Harleen was just such a good baby, hardly crying, rarely fussy, and so beautiful that they were the envy of every other parent they knew. So Sharon never brought up the way that Harleen seemed to _stare_ and **comprehend** when you talked to her. Nick just put it down to his beautiful daughter being as intelligent as she was beautiful and took pride in it.

They never talked about how fast she learned to walk and talk.

They especially avoided the _way_ she talked…educated…like an adult in miniature.

Sharon never quite got comfortable around her daughter…it just didn't seem like Harleen _needed_ her and so Sharon left her to her own devices most of the time while Nick was away. Sharon knew she should try harder, should love her more, Harleen tried to show her affection to her mother openly but somehow Sharon just couldn't do it. The sad truth was that Sharon was a little freaked out by her daughter…being comfortable around her seemed to be impossible. Harleen tried on her own, cajoling her mother into piano lessons hoping to bond over a shared passion. However, that just seemed to make it worse because as much as she tried not to envy the ease and skill her daughter picked up her art; Sharon knew in her heart that a large part of her resented her own daughter.

Why did she have to be so prefect?

Beautiful. Smart. Talented.

Sharon wondered if this was how every mother felt when giving birth to their own better versions of themselves.

Nick was as warm as Sharon was distant. Nick doted on his little princess, anything his little girl asked for she got and he was just so proud of her. So when she asked him to only talk to her in Italian when she turned one, he did, happy that she wanted to know his native language. Even though Sharon railed at him for talking to their daughter in their "secret language" and excluding her and Barry, Nick didn't care one whit. Barry was five years older and was a lazy uninterested boy. Nick wanted to love Barry as much as he loved his precious princess but he was just so disappointing next to his little Harley.

Barry didn't want to learn Italian (of course neither did Sharon) and he was slow to understand. Nick could have full discussions with Harley and not be bored or disinterested. She was only two years old and was a better conversationalist than people twenty times her age. And when he took her on his jobs Harley was talented and smart enough to not be a liability on his cons. Harley was everything he could have hoped for in his child. She had this need to learn that couldn't be quenched, she could read and write already. Harley could speak fluent Italian with him now after only a year and she was teaching herself Spanish now.

When she asked for gymnastic lessons Nick was surprised but got her a private instructor right away. Nick had decided a long time ago that Harley was going to be his priority because she needed someone to feed that hunger for life in her. It was the same hunger in him that need, that greed, and in her Nick saw a successor that would be more talented and better suited than him. It excited him; Nick couldn't wait to see how his little girl got world to bow at her dainty feet. When Sharon told him she was pregnant again shortly after Harley's third birthday Nick barely batted an eye at her excitement.

When Sharon found out it was a girl her anticipation could hardly be contained.

Then when the perfectly _**ordinary**_ baby girl was born, Jolene, Nick was oddly grateful. Jolene was a squalling, normal dim witted baby just like Barry had been and the relief Sharon expressed on that seemed a bit excessive to Nick. Harley didn't pay the new baby much mind and neither did Nick. If anything Nick was grateful that he didn't have two gifted children he had to devote himself to and be completely drained. Harley was enough for him, she needed his undivided attention and he was only too happy to give it. Sharon was utterly disgusted with him, her nose stuck firmly in the air now every time she looked at him.

Nick knew that Sharon was unsuited to him but she had been everything he had wanted. Sharon was a daughter of high society, she had been a budding socialite when he had met her on one of his cons…she had been so…untouchable. Beautiful, the daughter of a wealthy businessman, born with a silver spoon in her mouth Sharon had been showered with everything Nick had always had to struggle to obtain. She was supposed to have been out of his league, son of a garbage man, high school dropout, he had been born in the gutter and she had been born in a penthouse. That was why he had gone after her…why he had wanted her so bad.

Nick had only his charm and his silver tongue to recommend him. He had no money to shower her with courting gifts a girl like her would have expected. He had not been given the Ivy League education that her parents would expect of a future son in law. He was a con-man, he was not someone they had even wanted to lick their boots, but in spite of everything he had won her over. They eloped, had Barry right after and the rest as they say is history. Maybe at one point Sharon had loved him, maybe he had even loved her once, but that love was a pale shadow of the affection he felt for his little princess.

Nick didn't care what Sharon did anymore, didn't care if she spoiled Barry and Jolene rotten. He didn't care if Sharon ruined them like her parents had spoiled and ruined her. Harley was the only one who mattered to him. Nick started to do seduction cons around the time Harley started to go to school, and Sharon started drinking by then as well. Sharon pretended she didn't know Nick was cheating on her and Nick ignored the flask in her pocket and the slur in her words.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

" **I'm peeling the skin off my face** **  
** **'Cause I really hate being safe** **  
** **The normal's, they make me afraid** **  
** **The crazies, they make me feel sane"**

 **~Melanie Martinez**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Harleen Quinzel.

Harley Quinn.

Inside her head all the parts of her were laughing, Harley knew her future and it was so funny that this should be her new life. Harley wondered if you could escape destiny. Could you change your fate? Harley decided to try it even if in the end she ended up where she knew her path was going. It started with school, of course, she was determined to finish high school as soon as she was able and with any luck she would be done by the time she was ten…hopefully. Then she would do the first change, oh, she would still be a doctor but this time Harley thought being a trauma surgeon could be more useful in the long run.

After all, this world was one with flying god-like men, and a million more ways to die.

Harley giggled and thought to herself that this must be how Deadpool felt breaking the fourth wall…knowing you're technically a fictional character and living life anyways.

She had never forgotten what she had defeated to come into being, what she had endured; nothing would stop her from enjoying the bounty life had to offer because she knew the pain of death.

That pain had never left her, constantly in pain, pain twisted in her head until it was pleasure because it was proof.

Pain meant she was alive.

Pain meant she had endured, been broken but not beaten because she had stood up again. Harley would _**always**_ stand up again.

Harley knew the path she was supposed to walk, knew what it would bring down upon her and she laughed. Because wasn't her life a joke, she went skinny dipping into a rabbit hole covered in razor blades and wasn't that just hilarious? Wasn't this life a laugh? Her father certainly thought so; he showed her the tricks of his trade, and really, wasn't his art so…useful. In the end a con man was only a charmer, a seducer, and wasn't that what Harley Quinn wanted to be? She couldn't remember but her last life left with a bland after taste of a life well spent on boring _**normal**_ pursuits.

Harley was Harley, there was not another name that she remembered and not another one she wanted. Her mind was amazing, learning had never been so easy and there was just so much to learn. There was so much she wanted to know and her handsome, talented, con man of a father was only too happy to oblige her. Gymnastic lessons started when she was three and she was happy to find she was naturally very talented in it. By the time Harley was five they had moved four times to four different cities and by then her _education_ had become more…diverse. Her father seemed to be of the mind that she was going to follow him into the underworld as his princess and come out the other side the queen.

By the time they moved to Gotham she had learned a variety of skills that were unbelievably useful. How to pick a lock (handcuffs especially). How to throw a knife so it hit what you were aiming for (though that was still a work in progress). Nick had her training with a combat associate of his so she knew how to take down men ten times as big as she was and all of this without her ever having to ask for it.

She still pursued things on her own, piano and then violin lessons. There was a voice in her head that was constantly singing her favorite songs from the _before_ and nine times out of ten she sang along. So her father got her a vocal couch too. In fact as far as her father and Harley went, they were remarkable aligned in the pursuit of the things she wanted. Her mother and siblings were just sort of there in the background for Harley…she didn't care much for them. As for her father the rest of her family were like accessories to him, things he used when he needed to show the world what an upstanding citizen he was and how normal.

The two of them were peas in a pod, but eventually Harley found out this easy life she had been living had a punch line. It happened when her mother registered her for school and Harley actually wanted to _go._ Her father didn't like that one bit. See, he had a plan for Harley, she was his investment into the future and that future didn't include anything as normal as a formal education. Boy had Sharon been surprised at his blow up because now that she was registered she had to show up some of the time at least.

Course he hadn't really lost it until Harley had stated that she wanted to see about testing out of some grade levels and accelerating her education to a fast track to _college_ and then **medical school**. That wasn't in his plans, that wasn't what he had been training her for and that was the first time Nick had struck her across the face. Harley hadn't been expecting it so all her training went out the window and her body flew into the wall like a puppet without its strings. As she was lying there dizzy from the hit and fall Harley felt a laugh bubbling up her throat even as he kicked her and then stormed out the door.

She giggled.

She chuckled.

She laughed until tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

Because wasn't it _funny_ wasn't it _**hilarious**_ that in both of her lives her father was the kind of guy that beat on little girls. Oh she didn't remember much from before she was Harley, not much at all, but she remembered being hit, being beaten, because pain seemed to be the only thing death had left on her when she clawed her way back into life. She didn't remember softness, didn't remember the gentle embrace of love or the warmth of her mother's hands….but she remember the bite of his fits. So she laughed.

She laughed because what a joke. The father she loved, yes she loved him now, how could she not after five loving years of pampering tenderness, she loved him and he slapped her around anyway. It was even funnier because she knew what came next, was anticipating it even. She sat on the couch waiting for him, the mother who disliked her fluttering around her not sure what to do. The _better_ _ **you**_ _than me_ was stamped onto her face.

Wasn't that ironic?

The father, who loved her, hit her, because he felt enough for her to want to control her. The wife, he at best tolerated, was safe from his fists because he didn't _care_ enough to hit her. What a joke. What a laugh. So she giggled and waited.

Her cheek swelled up, her ribs felt tender as she giggled and sat back into the couch. Sure enough, a few hours later, he was back, smelling of liquor with tears in his eyes, an apology on his lips and a dozen roses in his hand.

He was so sorry.

He hadn't meant to hurt her.

 _You just made Daddy so angry princess._

He loved her.

He promised not to do it again.

Harley giggled.

She laughed. The Voices in her head, all the shattered parts inside her talked and sang.

 **You know this story.**

 _You know the lines._

 _ **And the joke.**_

~like rain on your wedding day~

*You know how to make this work*

The voices in her head and scattered parts of her all agreed, Harley smiled sweetly at her father on side of her mouth frozen from the swelling making her grin crooked and slightly demented. Harley knew all the lines, of course dad, you didn't want to hurt your Harley, of course I forgive you, but you need to let me do what I want to do. She watched the tensing of his jaw and the tightening of his fist with an amused eye. Then she twisted his views around, won't it be a great cover? Who would suspect a doctor? The sweet innocent child prodigy with too much intellect and not enough street smarts of doing any crime?

Wasn't it smart to set up an out for them?

Didn't father want to set up his princess with the best?

Suddenly it was her father's idea to get school out of the way as fast as possible. Tutors and tests were arranged without her ever having to lift a finger. Of course her extracurricular education was amped up as well. A personal gymnastic couch whose idea of a break was forced Parkour through the city, a combat trainer that was as merciless as her father in one of his newly discovered _moods._ It was painful and her time was packed leaving little for anything besides learning. But Harley made her own fun, her own games, singing, dancing through her training graceful as a bird in the sky.

She sang.

She danced.

She made the pain a game, a pleasure, but she never let them know she enjoyed it. That her father's backhand was more likely to bring a giggle than a cry because then they would know the power was not with them…that they had no control over her. That this was her _choice_ and that all his carefully laid plans were going to blow up in his face. Harley giggled alone in her room at night body deliciously aching as her mother drank herself to death down the hall and her father thought out his small minded schemes. All her father was doing was giving her a skill set she was sure to come in handy one day; especially in Gotham.

Harley wasn't sure what her future was going to be, but she knew what was coming and oh how _exciting_ it was going to be.

Batman.

Joker.

 _Superman_.

Heros vs Villians.

Her new life was going to be anything but boring that was for sure. Harley was going to take everything she could out of life because she knew only pain was waiting in death. So she laughed, she giggled, and she waited.

Waited to see if fate could be changed.

Waited to see what she would become, what side would tip her scales, light and dark were balancing on a tightrope inside of her. Harley wondered where she was going to fall and what was going to push her off.

The years passed in a blur of awards and record breaking. Goals were met and new ones formed. She finished high school early, at eight, and then went straight to college on a collection of scholarships with a fast track to medical school. She played at recitals, becoming known in certain circles as a musical prodigy an exceptional pianist and violinist. Harley giggled whenever she saw her mother's envious glare. Her life seemed to stretch out before her and seemed to be going just the way she had wanted it to.

Then her father crossed the wrong mob boss and was shot down in the middle of the restaurant he had taken her to in order to celebrate her getting into medical school. The blood rained down over her staining half of her crimson, half her hair, half her face, down half her dress and leaving the other half blue. She was twelve years old and standing in a puddle of her father's blood in the middle of their favorite restaurant. Harley put her head in her hands as the people around her screamed because it wouldn't be good for them to see her laugh. There was a flash of a camera going off as her shoulders shook from her silent giggles and what a joke.

She loved her father.

She hated her father.

Harley wondered if he would have the guts to claw his way back into life like she had but somehow she knew he would never have the strength.

So she giggled.

She laughed.

She hid her face in her hands because it wouldn't do for the normals to know she wasn't crying.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

" **I'm nuts, baby, I'm mad,** **  
** **The craziest friend that you've ever had** **  
** **You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone** **  
** **Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong"**

 **~Melanie Martinez**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Sharon Quinzel stared in resignation at the creature that was supposed to be her daughter and sipped at her bourbon hoping to drown her melancholy with more liquor. Harley was spinning around the kitchen humming under her breath as she made chocolate pudding, her hair was up in two perky pig tails that were shaped to look like bows and her clothes left much to be desired. Her shirt was hanging off her shoulders and cropped just below her belly button. Her shorts were small and Sharon barely considered them more than underwear. She was wearing leg warmers at least but it was odd to see since Sharon hadn't seen leg warmers like that since her own youth.

It was odd the entire picture of her daughter seemed like a ditzy normal teenager that had more looks than brains. Sharon drained her glass of bourbon in one long swallow and then poured herself another with unsteady hands. Harley was anything but normal. Sharon knew better, her daughter was a monster wearing her beauty like a suit and deceiving everyone around her. All they saw when they looked at Harley was the genius, the child prodigy, the musical virtuoso, the beauty and the talent giving her an unreal perfection that was almost angelic.

Sharon knew better.

Sharon saw the devil hiding behind those angelic eyes.

Sharon knew the girl that took a beating from her father with a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth that her husband never saw but she couldn't look away from. She had witnessed the way Harley had laughed, full belly deep laughs, the day her husband had been killed and the police had dropped her off at her house. Blood flaking off her face and matted in her hair. Dressed in a child's scrubs from the hospital, she had waited until she was inside her room before doubling over and laughing that crazed laugh as Sharon had watched in horror from the door.

Sharon had seen the razor intelligence in her eyes when Harley had coldly informed her that her husband's life insurance policy had named her sole beneficiary and that she had signed off on it while she had been on a bender. That she was seeking emancipation because the funds couldn't be touched until she had been granted legal adult status.

Sharon had been living under her rule since that day. So here she was drinking as much as she could every day to forget the fact that her sixteen year old daughter owned everything and that she lived off of what her daughter saw fit to give her. Sharon comforted herself in the thought that she was graduating from medical school soon and taking up a residency with Gotham general in the E.R. Hopefully this meant that Harley would spend less and less time in her house.

Tired of watching Harley dancing around Sharon stumbled her way to her bedroom, the master bedroom had been taken over by Harley the week after her husband had died but Sharon preferred the closer smaller bedroom on the first floor anyway. The bourbon bottle clinked against the doorway as she stumbled in and collapsed on her bed. Jolene came in after her timid as a mouse and Sharon offered her a shot of Bourbon that Jolene took with a wrinkle on her nose.

Harley was exceptional.

Her family was not. Sharon knew this but hoped she might drink enough one day to be able to finally ignore that fact. Her life was a wasted dream, her musical talent had rusted and faded over time. Her life was not anything close to what she had imagined as a child, no glory for her, no fame, no loving husband…nothing but two normal children and one monster. Her precious baby boy was a fat lump of a man now whose greatest ambition was to smoke enough weed to be able to eat ten pizzas. Her youngest was a girl starved for attention that drank and smoked at thirteen. Sharon fully expected that if Harley hadn't forced her on the shot that Jolene would have been pregnant by now. While nowhere near the beauty that was her older sister, Jolene was still very pretty and Sharon expected it was only a matter of time before that happened.

Jolene was too much like her mother.

Harley was too much like her husband, a monster incased in a beautiful package waiting to tempt you into ruin. Just as her husband had ruined her. The worst part was that Sharon still missed her husband, as cold as he had been, as disinterested as he had been, at least he had been there, but now Sharon was left alone. Looks ruined from three children and heavy drinking.

Harley broke out in loud giggles down the hall and Sharon for an insane moment thought she must have heard her thoughts and was laughing at her.

Harley giggled again.

Sharon shivered.

Jolene tossed back another shot.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

" **Over the bend, entirely bonkers** **  
** **You like me best when I'm off my rocker** **  
** **Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed** **  
** **So what if I'm crazy? The best people are** **  
** **All the best people are crazy, all the best people are"**

 **~Melanie Martinez**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Harley was bored.

Her life was going exactly how she had planned and that was horrible.

She had expected some difficulties, maybe the joker would pop up at her hospital dressed as a female nurse and somehow she would get in the cross hairs of something exciting.

That never happened.

Instead her life was exactly how she had planned it. Becoming a surgeon at 16 had not been easy, but all things considered it was straightforward. She had been working at Gotham General for five years now and was currently the head of the E.R. department. On weekends and after work she still kept up her rigorous training schedule with her various tutors. Though she did gymnastics and Parkour on her own now.

She had a weapons master, a combat trainer, and a language tutor. Currently she spoke eleven languages and could at least partly understand three more. Harley was also on her fourth instrument, already having become fairly competent in piano, violin, and guitar; she was making her way to conquering the cello.

Everything was going her way.

And it was so freaking tedious that she wasn't entirely sure she could honestly say she was enjoying it anymore.

Maybe it was because she came into this life preparing to be a villain. To be a part of the crazy world where people flew and bad guys dressed up as clowns. Somehow it felt like she was on hold getting ready for her real life that never seemed to show up.

If Harley wasn't enjoying life then something would have to change because this shit was getting old.

Of course there had been a few bright spots. Batman had made his debut a little over 2 years ago and already making waves in Gotham. The mob bosses were getting anxious and there was talk on the streets of him. Saying he was more creature than man and he was becoming something of a boogey man. Not that Harley cared much since she knew Bruce Wayne would have even less interest in her than Batman would at this point.

Though she was totally noteworthy (not that he would know of course); Harley had set up a little underground clinic last year to avoid dying of boredom by offering her services to the criminal underbelly of Gotham. The clinic was her only relief these days and even that was getting tedious. Sure she dealt with 'dangerous criminals' more but it was getting a little monotonous now. Harley didn't charge outrageous prices, just enough to cover expenses and a little on the side, what she had really wanted out the whole thing was connections underground. There was only three rules for her clinic, rule one: it was neutral territory, no one was allowed to pop anyone while they were there (it was a respect thing). Rule two: no one was allowed to mess with her or anyone under her protection. Doing so would bar you from ever getting help from her again. Rule Three: if someone was idiotic enough to break rule one or two anyone who wanted to be in her tender care ever again had to make sure that the offending party went bye-bye screaming.

So far only one idiot had broken one of her rules and the result kept everyone else from trying it since.

Of course her Clinic also catered to the down and out poverty stricken in the city. The people that couldn't go anywhere else and Harley thought it was so funny that the criminal underworld was funding her charity clinic that took care of a lot more people than the so called 'free clinics' run by others in Gotham.

Harley decided that if she was this bored now, she didn't want to see what the next couple years would bring, and so she did what she did best. Harley plotted to make her life a little more… _exciting_ …and decided to go back to school to get another doctorate (she had three doctorates already getting one more would be so easy) in psychiatry. Maybe it was time to face this Joker thing head on and see what was on the other side of the rabbit hole. A giggle bubbled up in her throat and the voices of every part of her clamored to be heard at once.

 **You know where this road leads.**

 _But maybe since you're different the outcome could be different._

 _ **Do you really want to dance with the devil?**_

~I need a gangsta to love me better…~

*You could always just go get laid*

 **But how boring would that be, beside sex wasn't all that earth shattering the last life we tried it. Why waste it on some dipshit?**

 _You just want to see if you can twist the Joker before he can twist you._

 _ **Now THAT is an exciting game!**_

~I'm fucked up black and blue…built for the abuse~

*How do you know if you won though?*

Harley laughed, this was going to be a very dangerous game and if she walked down this road devils and angels were going to take notice of her. Once they saw her, Harley knew there was no going back. Good.

Did she want to play that game?

A devilish little smirk bloomed on her mouth and she hummed, yes, yes she did.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

" **Where is my prescription?** **  
** **Doctor, doctor please listen** **  
** **My brain is scattered** **  
** **You can be Alice,** **  
** **I'll be the mad hatter."**

 **~Melanie Martinez**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Arkham Asylum was a little disappointing, it was a very old building, Victorian in style and while it was slightly menacing when one was driving through its old iron gates that feeling went away very quickly. Up close the stonework was in a definite need of repair and the lawn around it was dead. Getting the job here had been pathetically easy as well even as a freshly minted psychiatrist, of course that could be her reputation preceding her. It wasn't like she was going to give up being a surgeon just to be a psychiatrist and was quite happy to be able to pull off doing both at the tender age of twenty three.

Harley had been very disappointed to have missed out on the Joker blowing up half of Gotham General because she had been in class. Harley wondered which incarnation of the Joker would she be meeting, there were so many to choose from and while she had been keeping an 'ear to the ground' about the whole thing Harley had never actually picked up a paper or cruised the internet for pictures of the Joker. It was more exciting that way.

After all who knew what world she was in; there were so many comics, film adaptations, cartoons and animations about the DC world that Harley was enjoying a certain amount of uncertainty. Sure some things never changed, Bruce Wayne was Batman, Clark Kent was Superman, but the elements around them certainly varied. It left her feeling very excited for the future because who knew what was going to happen?

Would she fall for that deluded psychopath?

Did she want to fall in love with anyone?

Harley was still in the mind that nothing changed a person more than love; love could destroy you as easily as it saved you. Love was one thing she never underestimated because it was the pure essence of chaos. You couldn't choose who you fell for otherwise there would be a whole lot more happiness in the world.

She did know one thing though; she certainly wasn't going to have the Joker be her _first_ patient because even she wasn't that arrogant. Instead Harley had focused her attention on another steady element in the DC comics/movie universe, Pamela Isley, aka Poison Ivy, because what better way to dip her toes in the waters of fate than to test herself with her? Some worlds her lover, some worlds her friend, but in every incarnation Harley could think of they were close. The jester and the flower, queens of the underworld, and Harley wanted to see for herself if maybe fate could be tweaked using Ivy as a testing rod.

Besides no point in going after the big fish first when you could easily reel in the guppies.

Harley giggled.

The receptionist gave her a strange look but Harley ignored her to make her way to the director's office. Her first day here and she was already making friends.

How nice.

She giggled into her hand and breezed into the office making Director Arkham look up at her as he wrapped up his phone conversation.

"Dr. Quinzel! I wasn't expecting you until this afternoon?" Dr. Arkham said as he hung up the phone and quickly swiped the loose papers off his desk in a fluster.

"Well, the hospital didn't need me this morning and my schedule was free so I thought I'd come down for the tour and get my patient's folder. Best to be prepared to meet her and start off our dialogue on the right foot," Harley said a beautiful smile lightening up her face. She watched him melt a little with some amusement. Harley used her beauty as a tool, just like she used her intelligence, and like any tool she made sure both were as sharp as they could be.

She constantly tested her mind, learning new and challenging things every day.

She kept her body fit and decked out in clothes that while technically professional also amplified her best features. Her silk blouse was a stunning blue that emphasized her blue eyes, her hair was in a loose French braid with her bangs framing her face and her black slacks were form fitting making her legs look amazing. Her ballet flats were practical and made her feet look dainty. All in all she looked like a small curvy little doll and it seemed to bring out the protector in people.

It was hilarious and made her laugh inside at the thought. Also made it very easy for everyone to write her off as a non-threat, a very dangerous mistake that Harley loved to take advantage of whenever she had the chance.

"Of course, first why don't you take a seat while I get Ms. Isley's files and your security badge." Dr. Arkham said as he hustled out the door.

When he came back it was a quick and generic tour that Harley struggled to pay attention to since Dr. Arkham's voice took on a droning monotone after they had been at it a while. Finally he took her to her new office and inside there was a box with a patient number scribbled on top and high security stamped in red over it. Harley smiled as she sat at her new desk and pulled the box to her opening the lid.

It had taken two years to get here since she had decided to go back to school to become a psychiatrist. Harley had specialized in extreme personalities (of course) with an emphasis on the criminal aspect. After all if she was going to jump down that rabbit hole she might as well do it well armed. Batman had made his debut five years ago by her count; of course he had only been a rumor until four years ago when someone got a picture. The first Robin had joined him three years ago but she hadn't paid that much mind.

Batgirl had yet to show up but Harley was expecting that to come around soon.

The criminal aspect had broadened in that time, Poison Ivy, Deadshot, Riddler, Scarecrow, Penguin, the Joker and many others had taken to running about. Superman had shown up in Metropolis as a rumor a little over two years ago but only as a blur. He had yet to make a full debut. Harley was expecting that to be soon.

All in all, it was a crazy world she had landed herself in and she couldn't wait to jump on in.

In what capacity, on which side, Harley wasn't sure but she thought she might as well go big or go home.

When she made her way to the dark depressing room that Poison Ivy was being held in Harley couldn't help feeling a little underwhelmed by it all. Arkham was certainly living up to its reputation and not in a good way. She entered Pamela's cell with a breezy smile on her face, "Hello Pamela, mind if I call you Pam? I'm Dr. Harleen Quinzel, you can call me Harley or Dr. Quinn, from now on I'm going to be your Doctor."

Pamela Isley just stared at Harley sullenly from her cot refusing to speak a word. Harley just smiled wider, "I can tell we are going to have lots of fun together, you and I!" Harley grinned as she shut the door. Time for her work to begin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2~Gasoline**

" **Are you insane like me? Been in pain like me?  
Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me?  
Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?  
Would you use your water bill to dry the stain like me?"**

 **~Halsey**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Harley took careful stock of herself in the mirror as the red lipstick slid across her lower lip, everything about her was a weapon and her appearance was her most important tool. She smiled all teeth making sure no red had smudged on there before she plopped herself onto her bed to pull on her heels. Tonight would be very interesting, a charity gala, to raise funds for Arkham hosted by Bruce Wayne of all people…it made her giggle. She had been working at Arkham for little over two months now and was enjoying her time there. Harley was sure that if she had anyone whom she considered a friend in this life they would be horrified.

Not that she had any friends.

Not that it mattered to her any.

Harley had a hard time connecting to anyone in this life after her father had been killed, and she supposed it was a combination of things. First, she was a lot more intelligent than a normal child so making friends back then was kind of impossible. Not only because she did not have patience for their idiocy but because they thought she was weird. Then as she grew older, women stayed away from her because they didn't like being around someone they considered 'perfect'. As beautiful as she was intelligent, being around Harley was intimating for them and made them feel inferior. Men pursued her… not for friendship but for her body.

Unfortunately for them Harley had standards and if they couldn't hold a conversation with her then why should she bother with them. Some of them had been handsome but as idiotic as the rest and some had been smart but they had no passion in them. Harley was a passionate person, someone who lusted after life, she was a thrill seeker and not ashamed to admit it. After tasting death, life and all its offerings was just too much to resist.

That was why she had such a drive to learn things and do things. Not only because it might be useful to her one day but because she genuinely enjoyed it. She enjoyed acrobatics, pushing her body to an ever further limit. Harley enjoyed playing music and singing and dancing. She enjoyed being a doctor and having someone's life rest in the palm of her hands. Everything she did she enjoyed, she even reveled in the pain, because pain meant you were alive.

Harley freely admitted to being a masochist.

In fact it was something of a point of pride for her to _enjoy_ pain.

Harley giggled and made her way down to the taxi waiting for her on the curb. Time to get this show on the road.

Arriving a little late Harley was gratified to feel many eyes on her as she walked through the door and deftly grabbed a champagne glass off of a passing server. After greeting Dr. Arkham she took his not so subtle hint to start mingling with the guest. Harley was glad she had chosen to wear her eye popping blue dress instead of the gold when she caught sight of all the other gold dresses in the room.

She liked to stand out.

As the night wore on Harley did her very best to try to appear interested in whatever her conversation partner was saying but his voice was particularly dull. That was the problem with being the smartest person in the room (most of the time) it made finding someone she could actually have a conversation with incredibly hard to find. So she let her mind wander only giving the man before her the barest of her attention in order to keep him talking but not really putting any effort into it.

Her mind wandered into thinking about the progress she had made with Ivy, and bit her lip to keep from smiling at an awkward moment. Ivy had been cold to her at first, refusing to speak and throwing insults at her when she did. Harley had persevered though and had been slowly gaining her trust. First she had 'redecorated' Ivy's cell for her while she was getting common room time. Smuggling in a eco friendly memory foam mattress and getting her walls painted a nice forest green. She had been there to greet her when she had seen the improvements, of course, no point in doing something without getting the credit for it.

After that Harley started to bring her botany books during their sessions and slowly Ivy started opening up to her. Just a little bit. It was enough that Harley felt she was making some headway into helping Ivy deal with the trauma of her "transformation". It helped that Harley only ever called Pamela, Ivy, and refused to do any 'treatments' that were supposed to break her out of her "mother nature" role.

A cough brought her focus back to the man in front of her, "AS I was saying, Bruce, this is Dr. Harleen Quinzel, a bright up and coming doctor that has recently been hired on at Arkham. Dr. Quinzel this is Bruce Wayne the host for tonight's gala."

Harley dimly realized that the man who just introduced her to _Batman_ was one of Arkham's board members…Wesley…no…Weatherby…no…W something. She shook herself and smiled at Bruce Wayne and took his offered hand, "A pleasure, I'm sure." The words rolled off her tongue as internally all of her was chattering at once. She was nervous, excited, and maybe a bit intimidated. Bruce _Wayne_ smiled at her, one of those slick lady killer grins that only seemed to be pulled off by rich pampered playboys.

Harley wondered if they took a class for that, if all spoiled rich boys practiced that _I'm rich and handsome now bow at my feet_ smile.

She didn't like it but she kept her pleasant smile firmly in place. "Sorry if I'm interrupting I had to get an introduction to the Dr. that everyone's been buzzing about, I'm pleased to meet you Dr. Quinzel." He said with that same slick charming smile that made her insides queasy.

Harley didn't know what she had been expecting from him, but it certainly wasn't this _persona_ he was playing at now. As W something reassured Bruce that he hadn't interrupted anything so important and he was welcome to join them, Harley looked him up and down. Bruce Wayne was certainly handsome; she would give him _that_ because she wasn't blind. Harley wasn't sure what she had been expecting, what face she had been expecting but it wasn't this one. He looked nothing like that scattered faded memories she had of the various actors who had played his role in films from her first life.

He was so tall and so freaking broad. Built like a freaking linebacker and with the muscles to match Harley wondered how anyone who saw him didn't see all the inconsistencies she was seeing so casually displayed. Body was ripped; she could tell that even with the suit, his movements though were graceful and silent. Not what you would expect to see from a gym rat party boy that wanted some muscle to show off. See that was the problem, his muscles were all wrong for the image he was projecting. As someone who had spent almost the entirety of her new life under one martial artist instructor after another Harley recognized combat training when she saw it.

Which didn't fit his image at all…at least not this vapid Bruce Wayne one he was projecting…now _Batman_ …that image certainly matched his body. Then there was the focus in his eyes. He tried to sound a little stupid but his eyes were like focused laser beams. They didn't match at all. Nothing about him seemed very stealthy to her and maybe that was why she was disappointed. Then again she did have an unfair advantage, knowing everything about the man in front of her…well all the generic important bits anyway.

"Oh, so you sought me out? Whatever for Mr. Wayne, I don't think you were in the market for a therapist." Harley said sweetly as W something choked on his champagne. She suppressed a giggle.

Bruce smiled at her, but she saw that the corners of his eyes were tightening, "No nothing like that it's just that you're something of a mystery and I have always liked those."

Her smile was full of razor blades, "Oh I'm sure." She murmured demurely.

"In fact I heard you were quite the musical virtuoso? Perhaps sometime tonight I might get to hear you play the piano here, it's a lovely grand." Bruce said in turn. W something was beginning to look uncomfortable and excused himself from the conversation leaving her alone with Bruce.

"Well, I would hate to disappoint you but I'm not in the mood to play tonight. Some other time perhaps," Harley tried to waltz away then but Bruce just followed her as she began to walk.

"That's too bad, sure I can't persuade you?" He grinned at her boyishly. Harley was amused to see him deflate a little when she didn't swoon.

"Oh, I'm sure," Harley said trying to get him to go away. Maybe she would want to _play_ with him if he was in his _Batman_ persona but this bland shell he was projecting was not very interesting. Bad things happened when she was bored.

He held out his hand smiling, "A dance then," he asked.

She was going to turn him down but she caught Dr. Arkham looking and didn't want to catch hell for it later. So she sighed and placed her empty glass on a server's tray as he passed by and allowed Bruce Wayne to sweep her out into the dance floor. If he was trying to intimidate her with his classical dance training it didn't work she danced just as gracefully and a part of her was smug as she caught the various envy filled eyes around the room.

They made it look effortless and impossibly graceful.

"Have I done something to offend you, Dr. Quinzel?" Bruce asked her as he pulled her close and dipped her, "I can't help feeling like you're bored with me." He teased.

"Perish the thought," Harley quipped.

"Really," Bruce spun her out then pulled her in close, "you don't seem very interested in being around me, it's a …refreshingly new experience for me."

Harley grinned, "I'm sure your ego will heal from the bruising."

"I can't help but notice you seem to be avoiding the question," Bruce teased her charmingly.

"Oh, no, I'm not I'm just not sure why it would benefit me to answer." She grinned as that skin around his eyes tightened some more.

"Well I find you _fascinating_ ," Bruce murmured as he pulled her against his chest to do a slow box step. Harley was glad she was wearing platform heel otherwise she would be closer to the center of his chest instead of by his shoulder (if only barely).

"Is that so? I'm not sure what I could have done to warrant such attention." Harley teased back. Inside she was horrified to see that she might just be _flirting_ with _**Batman**_. Then she giggled at herself and let it go. It was certainly exciting and she hated to be bored.

"Oh I wouldn't say that, you're all Dr. Arkham can talk about these days. His newest recruit with multiple PHD.s and apparently your making some real progress rehabilitating Pamela Isley." Bruce rebutted with a raised brow. It was as if he was daring her to refute him.

"I'm not as surprised as I should be that Dr. Arkham has used me in his boast but I am a little disappointed. I cannot calm to have made any significant progress with Ivy, it's only been two months and these things take time." Harley said a small smile in the corner if her mouth. She was aware that Bruce was doing his best to manipulate her into discussing her patient but Harley didn't mind so much knowing his motives. Plus she was a little curious to see where this was going.

"Really? The way Dr. Arkham was going on about you I'd have thought you would agree with his assessment." Bruce cajoled.

Harley grinned at him, "I will not lie and say no progress has been made, because it has. However, as far as rehabilitation goes Ivy is far from being able to rejoin society. In fact, I very much doubt she ever will be truly able to reintegrate." Harley said as their dance came to an end and they began to leisurely stroll off the dance floor.

Bruce tried to hide his concern, but Harley spotted it on his face anyway. "So you're saying there is no hope for her?" He murmured as he grabbed another two full glasses of champagne and handed one to her.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that at all. I'm simply saying that after everything she has been through its going to be a very long road for Ivy. If she were to take the steps for rehabilitation and was released, she would certainly find her feet. However, she would not be able to simply go back into the work force, or continue on as she had before all this had happened to her. I suspect that should that be where things are headed that Ivy would probably join or form a nature advocacy group. I could definitely see her joining into politics with the sole agenda of fighting for conservation or something of the sort. Ivy isn't a lost cause…but she will never be what she once was." Harley rebutted and then took a little sip of her champagne.

Bruce looked very intrigued, "So you're saying there is hope for her yet? That her…eco-terrorism… could be channeled into something legally relevant and constructive?"

Harley knew he was just prompting her to keep talking in order to pump her for information but she wanted to indulge him. "Yes, however, that day is far off first I have to gain her trust. We have to deal with the initial trauma that placed her in my care to begin with and even then nothing can be certain. The man who ' _transformed_ ' her not only violated her in the most intimate of ways but he always changed her on a biological level. Ivy…she isn't just hyper attached to plants… _she is partially a plant_. Who's to say that hasn't changed how her brain fundamentally operates? I can't be certain, tests would need to be run and to do those test…trust…trust is a necessity. I suspect though that Ivy's plant side is in constant communication with other plants. Which if that is the case it is going to be very hard to turn her away from violent retaliation from what she and the plants would view as humans attacking them."

"How so?" Bruce prompted.

"Well, do you know anything about botany Mr. Wayne?" Harley asked.

"No, I'm afraid it hasn't really been an area of study I was interested in," Bruce responded, "Why?"

"I just wanted to see if you were aware that plants actually do 'talk' to one another…just not in the same sense humans do. For instance, do you know why grass smells that particular way after it's freshly cut?" Harley asked.

"No, please enlighten me," Bruce said smiling as he took the tiniest sip of champagne Harley had ever seen.

"Ok," Harley grinned, "the smell is actually a warning to other grass blades that something is damaging the crop. In other words…where you and I would simply enjoy the smell of freshly cut grass and never bat an eye at the person mowing their lawn. For Ivy I deeply suspect it would be different, she would smell the cut grass and hear thousands of little voices screaming from mutilation."

Bruce couldn't quite subdue his look of horror, "So you're saying Ms. Isley would have to be taught to ignore constant signals of pain from the plant life surrounding her?"

Harley nodded, "Something like that, it's just a theory but it is something I very much suspect. That along with her trauma at the hands of a man she had trusted…it caused her very violent break with reality. Bringing her to a place where she will be able to accept help is the first step…its getting her there that is going to be a challenge."

"That's actually very informative, thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, Dr. Quinzel." Bruce said sincerely.

"Call me Harley," she said in return, "well if that's it then I better get back to mingling." Then as she was turning to walk away from him, Bruce grabbed her hand and stopped her.

"Wait," Bruce said as he tugged her closer, "I think I still have some questions for you if you would be so kind as to indulge me…Harley."

"Sure," Harley giggled, "You are the host for the evening." It was funny, it really was, that she had his attention. Harley felt all shattered parts of her laughing at this situation. Here she was, a fictional character _destined_ to be a villain and before her was one of the big heroes of this universe. It was hilarious, and oddly…very tempting. There was so much about this life that was so odd to Harley, a part of her knew that this world was made by unseen hands and that this life wasn't…real. But then…what was reality?

This life certainly _felt_ real and her lust for it had never really dimmed even over the years of her being here. Life was so short…so fragile…it was ended as easily as blowing out a candle and death was a shredding abyss that destroyed everything you were. It was all so very funny. Maybe she had drunk enough to make her just reckless enough…or maybe she was reckless in her own right. Harley made a decision as she looked at Bruce; she was twenty three years old and had yet to experience sex in this life. Bruce was far from ordinary…he was freaking _Batman_ how hilarious would it be to lose her virginity in some one night stand with a freaking superhero.

"You're right, can't leave your host," Bruce teased, "and please call me Bruce."

That was it…Harley decided, Bruce was going to take her virginity and then she would probably never see him again. At least not as _Bruce_ , but that was ok. Some tiny broken part of her whispered that she had waited for love in her first life before giving it up…it was time to change it up a bit.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 **Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?** **  
** **Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?** **  
** **Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?** **  
** **Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?**

 **~Halsey**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Bruce wasn't sure what had come over him, but he didn't want to turn back now. He had thrown the fundraiser for Arkham Asylum in hopes that with more funding security could be upgraded and criminals would have a harder time breaking out. It came as an added benefit that in brought all the Doctors in charge of the various big named criminals in one place where he could subtly get a status update on those currently incarcerated. He hadn't even brought his usual revolving arm candy with him because having a whiny cling on demanding his attention would only distract him.

The first half of the night had gone exactly as he had hoped. The various doctors in charge of the numerous criminals on his watch list were only too pleased by his attention and all too willing to open up to him about their charges. He had been winding down to the end of his list and had managed to track down one of the more elusive doctors. Dr. Harleen Quinzel was a notorious figure within the academia, after all she was something of a child prodigy and she had numerous doctorates.

When she had turned her eyes to psychology and become a doctor at Arkham she had gotten his attention. Musical virtuoso, multiple PHDs, and the looks of a movie star, Harley was not a woman one easily ignored. Beauty and brains, it was a dangerous combination. He had been surprised how dismissive she was of him at first, like he was beneath her notice and it was a feeling he was not used to. However, once he had managed to get her talking about her current career path it was like she had opened up before him.

Truly she was an enchanting creature, and then just like that she had tried to flit away from him again. He should have let her go; Harley was dangerous, because he wasn't sure that once he had her that he would be able to let her go. His life was not a life he would want to bring anyone into…it was hazardous to her health…getting involved with him could very well be a death sentence.

But Bruce just hadn't been able to let her walk away from him.

Just one night.

Just one night, Bruce was sure that if he repeated it inside his head enough maybe it would be true. Just one night together…what harm could one night do?

So he stopped her from leaving, and asked her questions. Stupid and cliché ones, like her favorite flower and food.

Red roses and chocolate pudding.

Diamonds or Pearls, what did she prefer?

Pearls, very classic and rubies over diamonds any day.

Bruce asked her stupid things that you would ask someone on a first date. In his head he knew he was getting in too deep and that he probably should let her go now. Then he found out she was taking a cab home and thought it would only be polite to offer her a ride home. Of course before Bruce could think to tell his driver the new direction Harley distracted him and before long they were deep in discussion on the way to Wayne manor.

When they got to his house Bruce was embarrassed to say he forgot to tell his driver about the change in directions but Harley waved it off. "Since we're here anyway and the night's still young, why don't you show me around?" Harley said curiosity written all over her face. "I love old buildings and your home has a lot of history."

Reluctantly Bruce agreed even though deep down that this was a very bad idea. Harley was just too tempting, her dress showed off all her curves without being trashy…just sexy as all hell and her mind was keeping him very captivated. So Bruce showed her around, took her to all his favorite spots in the house…well not all of them but the ones that were safe enough to show her. He quite enjoyed her reaction to his library, "Ok, this is mine now," Harley said decisively as she tried to push him from the room teasingly and shut the door on him.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Bruce teased back, "I was here first."

"Don't care," Harley nodded to herself, "This is my wet dream right here, all these books!"

It was just too much, she was just being too adorable, too sexy, too fun, and for the first time in a good long while Bruce felt light hearted. So instead of pushing back to her pushing forward, he grabbed her about the waist and pulled her into him and did what he had been thinking about most of the night. He kissed her. Her lips were just as soft and full as he had imagined. Harley sighed and opened her mouth to him and he felt like a beast as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 **And all the people say** **  
** **You can't wake up, this is not a dream** **  
** **You're part of a machine, you are not a human being** **  
** **With your face all made up, living on a screen** **  
** **Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline**

 **~Halsey**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Harley was very relieved when Bruce grabbed her and started to kiss her. She had begun to worry that her inexperienced flirting wasn't going anywhere and that the night was going to be a bust as far as getting rid of her virginity went. As far as first kisses went this was very nice, at least first kisses that she could remember. All her little pieces agreed that Bruce was good at this and they thought this meant she picked a good guy who knew what he was doing.

It only took a huskily whispered question of where Bruce's bed was that had him pulling her towards a bedroom. They would stop every so often getting caught up in kissing each other and gliding their hands over each other's bodies. Eventually they made it to a bedroom, Harley wasn't sure if it was Bruce's or if it was a spare…not that it mattered to her anyway. He picked her up then and Harley kicked off her shoes as he threw her onto the bed making her giggle with anticipation.

He was very quick when it came to getting his jacket, tie and shirt off. Harley had only barely managed to unzip her dress that fell into her lap before he was on her again kissing her feverishly. Bruce only pulled back long enough to get to the buttons on his pants and to pull her dress completely off her. Then of course he paused when he finally took her in, she was only wearing her bra, panties, garter belt and thigh highs now…all in matching black lace. He groaned and pulled her into his lap where she could feel him pressing stiffly against her inner thigh.

Harley giggled again and pushed Bruce onto his back. She unsnapped her bra as she straddled him and he groaned again as he cupped her newly freed breasts. Harley was very happy with her pretty little c cups because she had her pick of cut bras…some small piece of her remembered having bigger more troublesome breasts that made her back ache and were a nightmare to shop for. Harley moaned all thoughts flying from her head as Bruce captured a nipple in his mouth and she tried to get the last pieces of clothing off.

Somehow, trying to get to the little snaps on her garter belt was impossible and Bruce got too impatient and finally just snapped the delicate lace panties leaving her exposed but with her thigh highs and garter still on. He pulled a condom out from somewhere; Harley couldn't tell where and left it to some Batman magic, just happy he had anything. Impatience got the better of him and once he rolled it on he was inside her in one rough thrust. The pain rolled over her in a delicious wave, heightening her pleasure and she whined in disappointment when he froze.

Harley figured that he must have felt the flesh tearing as he entered her and now he was doing that guilt trip thing. Harley growled impatiently and flipped him intent on finishing what he started. It took about 30 seconds of her very enthusiastic riding of him to get him back in the game. There was something so empowering of watching Bruce freaking Wayne come apart under her. Right at this moment, inside of her, he couldn't put up any masks and Harley watched him carefully. She read his body like a book; years of studying body language made her a master at the silent communication that Bruce was giving her.

Every experimental roll of her hips she studied his reactions, seeing without him saying a word what he liked and disliked. This might only be a one night stand but Harley was determined to etch it in his memory as one of the best lays he _ever_ had. Suddenly he flipped her and Harley giggled and moaned as he took control. She had been expecting that and simply used her new position to her advantage to push him in deeper.

A few more minutes like that and then Harley got to watch the best thing she had ever…Bruce came undone over her gasping and groaning as he reached his end. Then he collapsed on top of her his head between her breast and panting. Eventually he pulled away and Harley could see he wanted to _talk_. So she stopped him with kisses and husky words saying that she hoped that this wasn't him giving up yet. After all _she_ hadn't finished yet and Bruce got the hint and a very determined look in his eyes. Of course, Harley knew that she couldn't put him off forever but she figured that tonight at least she could get him doing other more enjoyable things. Then she was going to sneak out in the morning before he woke up and she had felt no shame in planning her hasty exit.

They spent the night in each other's arms and Harley managed to enjoy her first shared orgasm shortly followed by a few more. By the time dawn rolled around Bruce was passed out beside her and Harley was trying her best to sneak out of his arms. That was something she had not expected, Bruce Wayne…a _coddler_ …she barely managed to stop herself from chuckling. But it did give her an added issue that her sneaking away plan was harder to do when your partner just wouldn't let go. It took a while and eventually a combination of her flexibility along with replacing herself with a pillow got her free without waking him up.

Then she tip toed around the room on silent feet gathering up her things and then she slipped out the window. All the years of doing Parkour paying off nicely even if she only had one hand to use seeing as she had to carry her heels to avoid waking up Bruce.

Luckily her cell phone and along with her ID and a credit card were in hidden pockets in her bra. She had a cab waiting for her at the end of Bruce's driveway and it was very easy climbing over the fence. The hard part was doing that without giving the cabby an eyeful since Bruce had destroyed her undies. The thought just made her giggle and the knowing look in the cabbies eyes turned that giggle into a full belly laugh.

She rattled off her address and let the laughter take her as she put her heels on. Once she was home her exhaustion was starting to catch up with her, and she barely forced herself to shower off before belly flopping naked into her bed. Her entire body ached in that naughty way she loved and Harley could honestly say she enjoyed herself. As she drifted off Harley had one small piece of herself smug that she had avoided that award morning after. Bruce would have felt all guilty about being her first and she didn't want him getting any ideas about what they were just because they had sex.

It was an experience she had enjoyed and was ready to put behind her. Harley was far from ready to be in any sort of relationship and Bruce was too broken to even make an attempt at it. She figured this way they both got what they had wanted and no one was hurt so why complicate it with false promises.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 **I think there's a flaw in my code** **  
** **These voices won't leave me alone** **  
** **Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold**

 **~Halsey**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Bruce growled as he threw himself into his office chair and asked Alfred to get him some coffee. He was so thankful it was Saturday because if he had to deal with this shit on a Monday it would have been worse. He was in a vile mood and it wasn't likely to get any better. When he woke up this morning to an empty bed, his body aching from a night well used and was crushed by guilt. He had wanted to believe that what he felt last night had been something else…since Harley was probably the best he had ever had…but the blood on the sheets told a different story.

He couldn't believe he had done that and that she had disappeared on him afterwards. He didn't have her number or her address but both of those were easily taken care of. However, he had no idea where to go from here. He couldn't stop thinking about her, she was…just wow…but she had obviously taken great care to sneak out of here this morning without waking him and that was no easy task. So that left him with the knowledge that this woman that he was very interested in…might not be all that interested in him in return.

But Bruce had been her first…didn't they have that saying that you never forgot your first?

It left him a confused mess with no idea where to go or what to do to fix this. In the end Bruce decided to just show up and see where everything went. If Harley didn't want anything to do with him…that was her choice but he needed to see her again. He had to at least try and talk to her about last night. He decided to drive himself and took one of his incognito cars into town. He stopped for Roses and lunch and made his way over to her apartment complex.

A voice inside was screaming that this was a bad idea, that it was stalkerish, that she didn't want to see him and that even if this turned out well he was just putting her life on the line for his own selfish desires. He squashed that voice mercilessly and made his way up to the top floor. He had to try and he knew that if he didn't do at least that much this would eat at him for a long while. So Bruce steeled his nerves and knocked.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 **Are you deranged like me?** **  
** **Are you strange like me?** **  
** **Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?** **  
** **Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?** **  
** **Pointing fingers 'cause you'll never take the blame like me?**

 **~Halsey**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Harley was curled up on her couch nursing a delicious cup of coffee that was half creamer and sugar. Her robe wasn't even closed and just draped off her shoulders revealing her naked form but giving her snuggle comfort. She sipped her cup and sighed. This morning had been wonderful she had gotten up to a nice warm relaxing bath, ate some pop tarts and decided to spend the day naked and enjoying the ache between her legs for a while. Maybe read a good book and do some yoga later.

In all she felt thoroughly used in the best of ways and she didn't even have to deal with guilt ridden half apologies from Brucey. Life was good.

Then there was a knock at the door and Harley groaned…there were only two possibilities for the disturbance. She got up put her cup on her coffee table and went to the door to look into the keyhole. There he was, in all his handsome glory, roses in one hand and some sort of takeout in the other. For a second she debated opening the door but food won out in the end. She didn't even bother to close her robe and Harley was glad she hadn't because the look on Bruce's face was worth it.

"Hey," Harley giggled, "Those for me?"

Bruce choked and then cleared his throat and nodded. Silently he handed his offerings over and Harley took them with a hum. She left the doorway in search of a vase and put the food on the counter. "You coming in or just gonna enjoy the view from the door?" Harley asked sweetly and Bruce shook himself walking in quickly closing the door behind him.

"I..I ah…I wanted to talk to you about last night but you disappeared on me," Bruce said as he tried to keep his eyes on her face…it was harder than he would like to admit.

"Oh don't worry sweetheart, I'm not expecting anything from you. I knew you'd be all weird about it being my first time and all so I thought I'd make myself scarce in the morning to avoid any awkwardness." Harley grinned, "Guys get all weird about virgins you know and I wanted you to know I'm not really after a relationship or nothing. But I do love the roses…and is that a sub from Pazones I smell in that bag?"

"Yeah, I remembered you said last night they were your favorite." Bruce muttered rubbing his neck nervously.

"Ahh, well aren't you just the sweetest Brucey. You didn't have ta do that for me ya know?" Harley grinned, "I might just have ta jump you if you keep it up!" Harley giggled at his conflicted face. "So, you wanted to talk. Go ahead, I'm gonna dig into this sub while it's still warm though."

Bruce shuffled, opened his mouth and shut it a few times before sighing and taking a seat on her couch. Harley grinned and bounced over to sit across from him sub in her hands. She looked at him expectantly as she ate. Finally he groaned and said, "I have no idea what to say, I still want to be around you and be with you but you don't want a relationship and to be honest I'm not ready for one either."

Harley giggled and forced herself to swallow her bite before she put the sub down. "How 'bout this Brucey, I'll give you my number and you give me yours. If I'm feeling an itch you can scratch or vise versa we'll give each other a call. Or if you need some arm candy for some event I'm not about to say no to a chance to get all dolled up for a fun night on the town. But we leave it at that for now. If either of us want out or more…well we cross that bridge when we get to it. No strings," she grinned and slinked forward onto Bruce's lap. "That sound good to you Sugah?"

Bruce gripped her hips and looked down at her in his lap. Then he groaned and captured her mouth with his pulling her in closer as he did. Harley took that as a yes and grinned inside. Bruce was good in bed, he was rich, and he brought a little danger with him. That was good enough for her for now. Sure she wished he was little rougher in the sack and wished he would have taken more control over her but this was alright.

AS far as Harley could remember Batman never had anyone in his love life for very long anyway. Sooner or later Bruce was going to talk himself out of this, or he would guilt himself out of this and it would be over. Harley was going to enjoy the ride though.

 **Let's ruin him for other women.**

 _That's a little spiteful isn't it? You know this is going to mess him up bad if things go the way they are meant to in the comics._

 _ **And why not, Batman is a tortured character…what's a little more pain. Pain just means you're alive…we LIKE pain.**_

~ My voice is twisted, guilty goes the tongue…~

*We should just enjoy it while we have it, nothing lasts.*

Harley hummed and slipped her tongue into Bruce's mouth while grinding her hips down. Bruce groaned beneath her. Yes, she was going to enjoy this and since she knew this fling was going to be just that a fling Harley knew she wouldn't invest much of her heart in this experience. That was one good thing about being all torn up inside…emotions were hard for her…attachments were so hard for her to make that she had to make a conscious decision to form it. Otherwise it seemed that they just didn't…come…it was why the fact her mother hated her rolled off her back like nothing. Because it was nothing to her.

She just hoped Bruce didn't do something stupid like fall in love with her. That would be funny but it would also probably complicate things later if she decided to start killing people. She giggled as he picked her up and took her to her bed. It was funny but her morals were all messed up. Her ideas of right and wrong were all twisted. Because she knew death like a lover, knew its bite, knew life's futility but at the same time she had her own code. She helped people too…but she could just as easily kill them. Not that she had yet but it was a possibility.

Oh well, enough thinking, she turned her full attention to the man above her and grinned again.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 **And all the people say** **  
** **You can't wake up, this is not a dream** **  
** **You're part of a machine, you are not a human being** **  
** **With your face all made up, living on a screen** **  
** **Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline**

 **~Halsey**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Harley hummed as she made her way down to Ivy's session room and ignored the various stares she received as she passed anyone in the halls. She had a very satisfying weekend and it showed in the 'glow' around her. Plus she was wearing her favorite red heels that always gave her a boost of confidence whenever she could strut around in them. The guards outside of the session room whistled at her as she stepped through the door and Harley caught the way Ivy scowled at them as she shut the door.

"Good morning Ivy, how are we doing today?" Harley said smiling as she sat across from her.

Ivy still had a scowl on her face as she said, "not as good as yours it seems," she snarked.

Harley grinned, "Nope, I wouldn't think so," she hummed, "tell me Ivy, what do you remember of the Medusa myth?"

Ivy looked at her surprised, caught off track at the seemingly random question, "She was cursed by some goddess after a god raped her in the goddess' temple, why?"

"Hmmm, well that's what most people remember of her because that is the way most…male…academia decided to interpret the story. The way the Greeks saw it was different and I think you'll appreciate their view of her better. Medusa was a very beautiful mortal woman that caught the eye of Poseidon, he tried to get into her pants but Medusa had vowed to remain celibate for her patron goddess Athena. Poseidon wouldn't take no for an answer and raped her in Athena's temple. Now…here's where the story gets different interpretations one says that Athena was so offended by the act that she punished Medusa…the other is that Athena took pity on Medusa and granted her a gift."

"What's the point of this story," Ivy grumbled.

"You gotta wait for the punchline!" Harley retorted, "Now Athena turned Medusa into a gorgon, a being so toxic that all who looked upon her would turn to stone. Some think this was a punishment…but Greek women always saw this as a gift. Do you see why?" Harley asked genuinely curious.

"I can't see how being turned into a monster could ever be considered a gift," Ivy grumbled at her.

Harley chuckled, "That's because you're not thinking creatively. Greek women viewed it as a gift because her toxicity ensured that no one would ever touch her without her consent again. Greek women used to have medusa heads engraved on shelters for battered women. She became a symbol of a victim turned into a protector."

Ivy had a curious look on her face that Harley couldn't quite interpret. "Why did you tell me this?" Ivy finally asked.

"Simple," Harley smiled softly and reached out across the table separating them placing her hand just short of Ivy's own hand, "I wanted you to see that maybe the fact that you are toxic now is not such a bad thing. All your toxicity does…just like medusa…no one is _**ever**_ going to touch you without your consent." Harley giggled, "At least not without paying the price for it." Ivy seemed taken aback by that and then turned her eyes to the hand just out of her reach.

Then as Harley began to lean back, Ivy reached out and grabbed her hand before it could leave the place it had been before. For a moment they didn't say anything to each other and Harley just continued to smile softly at her. Finally, her expression cleared and Ivy startled Harley by smiling ever so small back at her. Harley gripped her hand strongly once and then pulled back. Ivy sighed and looked her eye, "Thank you."

Harley nodded back, "You're welcome." Then she grinned and reached into her lab pocket. "I have something for you." Harley said and then she placed it ever so slowly onto the table. It was an adorably tiny ceramic pot with some dirt, and Harley slid it across the table over to Ivy. "There's a Lily seed of some sort planted in there. I thought you might enjoy having a flower in your cell. I had to go through all sorts of hoops to get this for you so…please don't do anything stupid and get it taken away alright? I would hate to have Dr. Arkham come around saying I told you so."

Ivy looked stunned…she looked from the tiny pot to Harley and slowly reached out to cradle the pot like it was a small baby. And maybe to her it was. "So, I thought today we could talk about the changes that you went through and how it's affecting your everyday life." Harley began cautiously. And for the first time Ivy just nodded and didn't shut down that line of questioning.

"What do you want to know?" Ivy asked her eyes remained on the pot cradled in her hands. Harley grinned; well this was going to be an enlightening session.

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 **I think there's a flaw in my code** **  
** **These voices won't leave me alone** **  
** **Well my heart is gold and my hands are cold**

 **~Halsey**

 **~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Harley was satisfied; she had planted a seed into Ivy's mind that Harley hoped would soon bear some fruit. That was the thing about living in a world like this one…everything was chaos that was disguised as order. So even the best laid plans could be broken, an half decent villain of this world could tell you that. Harley wasn't stupid, she knew her like was balanced on a razors edge and at any moment it could cut her in half.

That was half the fun.

Harley giggled; it was why she spent every waking moment of her life doing _something_ to fill it with as much as she could. Life was fragile and Harley thought she might remember how to get out of death again. However, there was no guarantee and so everything she felt like doing…she did. At the moment she had no real urge to be a murderer or a thief. That didn't mean there wouldn't come a time when she felt so inclined but at the moment her plate was full.

Plus she had recently joined a…shall we call it _Fight Club_ and that was satisfying her violence craving. Plus Harley very much enjoyed the glory she had managed to gain the traditional way and so far that was what she felt like following. Harley was ever so curious about the Joker, still, how could she not be? Her destiny laid with him and a part of her wondered if he would manage to convince her to love him…what would that even look like? She had no idea and she was dying to find out.

On the other hand, Bruce was keeping her well enough for right now and she wondered if her fate might be different. Harley was certainly different. From what she could recall in the dizzying combination of movies, tv shows and comics…Harley Quinn had been an intelligent woman who played dumb. In fact she played dumb so well that she even convinced herself that she was an idiot. Harley often wondered if the original Harley had loved plain as much as she did now…it would make sense given how often the joker 'abused' her. Then again…maybe not.

The thing was that there were so many adaptations of this universe, of these characters, that Harley knew she could only believe in the cores of the characters. Bruce Wayne was Batman and typically he didn't kill…well at least not in this universe… _she thinks_. Clark Kent was Batman... no wait he was SUPERMAN...hahahahahaha Bats on the brain. She knew the identities of a lot of superheroes and a lot of villains. However…the joker remained a mystery. His past was varied and even his name changed constantly.

He was a variable that Harley knew she could never really plan for and that excited her to some extent.


End file.
